


Gravity

by mrtvejpes



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Changkyun's Monster Tongue Makes an Appearance, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Discipline, Dom/sub, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Master/Slave, Minor Chae Hyungwon/Lee Minhyuk, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, kiho, wonkihyuk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 10:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15861897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrtvejpes/pseuds/mrtvejpes
Summary: “Don't let go of me,” he said quietly, his eyes closed.“I won't. I've got you.”Gravity lost its pull at him. So he was handled in the end. Held.Disciplined.





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> I... what is this filth.

The dark reminded him of cinemas. It was the sudden kind of dark one had to grope trough, unused to the solidity of it. The Venetian mask Hoseok had put on before walking in didn't make things easier. Its elongated slits for eyes narrowed his vision. He adjusted it blindly.

Pulses of basses and, strangely, bamboo flutes seeped into him, as heavy as his anticipation and the shadows all around. He breathed in and out several times before he started seeing anything else than the black.

There was no obvious source of light, only a dewy kind of glow that lay over the bodies before him in a thick rosy layer. He balked at how _private_ the room was. So private that it stole some of the privacy Hoseok expected to find here. He was told the company would be selected, which is why he chose this day and spot for his very first visit at a club like this.

Still, he thought there would be more than a slim dozen of people.

The room, too, wasn't the smallest – but it was small enough to see everything and everyone. To see Hoseok, if his mask came undone.

He almost turned around and left. The door stood behind him locked, though.

So, he took a step into the room. It was windowless. Square, it opened in front of Hoseok in shades of red. The space was separated from other suites by sliding shoji panels set in wooden frames on one side, the glossy paper diffusing light. On the other side stood fully opaque fusuma doors, the full blocks of wood painted with black ink. There were no beds or sofas – only tatami and futons. Bamboo and flying dragon patterns glazed the walls in soft watercolours.

He should have reconsidered wearing a Venetian carnival mask. He was told this would be a masquerade-type of... _event_ , but he had no idea it was held in a traditional Japanese style.

He realized another thing as outlines and silhouettes started to emerge from the darkness. He was one of the few men who were naked.

It wasn't like he had a chance to decide this. He was a newcomer. A visitor. And this was a VIP event he was only able to attend because he had money and a paper that said he was as healthy as a holy virgin. His nudity served as a safety measure of sorts – it took away some of his comfort to protect the actual members of the club. The rule was supposed to deter gapers.

Hoseok had no intention to gape. He took another step, sensing the softness of the padded floor under his bare feet. The closer he got to the bacchic orgy, the more vivid the contours of bodies and masks became.

The men before him lay in a _tangle_. Some wore kimonos, some leather. Some wore nothing at all, not even domino masks, choosing to show their faces freely instead. But there was a muscular man whose whole head was hidden by a latex mask, and not far away from him, another of the VIP members took the theme of the event seriously and donned a horned bugaku mask, its features demonic and laughing an upside-down laugh.

A lot of the attendees were already coupled. The latex mask kneeled large and tame besides his tall, lanky owner. The bugaku mask moved between groups. One man hung from the ceiling, legs spread, his hole fingered, and him – begging for more. Hoseok ached at the sight.

The lilt of flutes led his footsteps. Instinctively, he aimed towards two men who were making out a little further away from the rest of the assembly. This was ideal. He should start small. Literally, small. One of the men was even shorter than Hoseok. It calmed the tremble in his limbs.

The couple looked like day and night. Mirrored in what they wore, the colours they chose differed drastically. The taller man was dressed in an inky yukata, while the shorter opted for lighter shades. The same went for their masks. One was black. The other was white, with a see-through gem adorning the forehead. Even their hair colours fit the whole picture. The man in black was dark-haired, whereas the man in white dyed his soft strands silver.

Hoseok swallowed. The rest of the petite figure dressed in a salmon-coloured yukata seemed just as angelic. The sharply-cut slope of the man's nose stabbed at the dark when he threw his head back to moan. In the slits of the mask, there was nothing but a void for a while – and then his heavy lids opened and a too-focused stare pierced right through Hoseok, pinning him in place. At the same time, his yukata slid lower and revealed a feminine shoulder.

He lifted one arm. The heavy sleeve gathered at his elbow, whispering down the supple skin.

It was an invitation.

This was bad. Hoseok came here to be had, preferably by someone like the man in the latex mask. Someone strong. But he kneeled down in front of the kissing couple all the same. Perhaps the man in black would let him touch his lover as he fucked Hoseok.

The slighter of the two didn't wait for permission, though. He caressed Hoseok's cheek.

“New here?”

Even his voice was breakable. A little deeper than Hoseok expected, but by no means deep. Just low with lust.

“Yes,” said Hoseok, a little late.

“Yes, what?”

 _God_ . Was _he_ the dom of the two?

“Yes, sir,” he tried, looking down at the sprawled body underneath him as he sat on his heels. He took in the dainty wrists and ankles, the delicate lashes.

He got hard.

The man smiled at him. A praising smile. He gave Hoseok another caress.

It made him inhale and he turned to kiss the man's inner wrist.

Hoseok had been with many men. He'd even made it so that some of his exes would do _him_ for a change, calling it an experiment – _so it feels equal for you, too – so you know that I trust you –_ but it was never fully what he needed, and it was never because of trust. He'd tried it with strangers as well, but that usually turned out even worse. They would come into him sloppily within a few strokes and he would be left hanging, swallowing down a heartburn kind of emptiness.

It was as if he could never be handled properly. He had a clear idea of what he craved. He just had no idea how to ask for it.

“You're not allowed to do that just yet,” the small man said, breaking through Hoseok's thoughts. Calmly, he waited for Hoseok to cease what he was doing; to let go.

Hoseok did. But he hated to. He'd yet to touch someone so smooth.

He wanted to be fucked, not disciplined.

He supposed it was part of the experience. He watched as the slim arm slipped away.

The man turned his attention back to his lover in black, who never even noticed Hoseok, too busy leaving bruises down the other one's neck and chest. Too busy palming his cock over the yukata patterned with peonies and hummingbirds.

“Are you bailing on me already?” the black one muttered. “You always do this.”

Oh. So he'd noticed Hoseok after all.

He wished someone noticed his cock, too.

“That's because you have a whole boyfriend with you and _I_ always end up going home alone after the event's done. Do you think I come here to kiss in the dark like a kid?” As he said it, he grabbed the other man's hair, quite gently, and made him tilt his head back. He laved at his throat.

“I've told you million times you can come with us,” said the one in black, some strain seeping into his otherwise light voice.

“I don't feel like fucking your boyfriend. I don't want to share your things.”

“Can I share yours?” the black one gave a chuckle – a giggle, almost – and he looked at Hoseok for the first time.

The white one shrugged his pretty shoulders. “He came to the both of us.”

“No, I –” Hoseok started.

“Who told you to speak?”

He felt that deeper than in his cock. It went all the way down.

“Forgive me, sir,” he muttered.

“Forgive me?” the white one repeated, not so pretty all of a sudden. “That's an imperative, as far as I'm concerned. Do I have to forgive you? Is that an order?”

Hoseok held his body straight and tight so he wouldn't wince.

It would be easier if he didn't leak at the trill in the man's tone, so reminiscent of the faint bamboo flute melody that it sweetened his every word.

“I apologize. I do, I mean it,” he rushed to say, though he did it quietly because he was unused to speaking in this manner and it made him awkward. “I will be more careful to address you properly from now on, sir.”

He wondered if he said the right thing. He waited for that smile to reward him again.

It didn't.

Half-hidden by the mask, the man – the _master_ , if only for an hour or two – gave him an impassive glance before he returned to his friend once more. They made out and talked and dragged their hands up and down each other's body. Once, Hoseok caught a glimpse of a lovely nipple, and he nearly begged to lick it, but he didn't dare to speak up.

Not just yet.

It pulsed through his cock to be left waiting – but wait he did, mesmerized by the water-like chime of music, by shadows that ran over walls whenever one of the remaining men got up and changed partners; mesmerized by moans.

He heard a light swoosh of a whip. He heard it again. Someone gave a deep groan.

His breath quickened when his master undressed the other man. His small hands moved in merciless circles, scratching and avoiding all the pleasant parts. Judging from the force with which the man in black kissed back, it was getting to him.

“Fucking get me off already,” he muttered.

“Patience, Minhyuk.”

“Look, patience is nice when it's me making Hyungwon earn it, but I don't like this kind of shit.”

“Obviously, you like to squirm a little, otherwise you'd be with him right now.”

“He's having too much fun with Hyunwoo,” Minhyuk pointed out.

Hoseok couldn't help glancing around until he spotted the lanky owner with his slave. Nothing made sense anymore. The beautiful guy was a bottom? But he was whipping the big dude.

“You guys should just switch. You like to be tortured and he likes it when people grovel, but you fuck like a heterosexual couple.”

“I swear, Yoo Kihyun, you little –”

The threat hung unfinished. The man – the master – _Kihyun –_ fisted Minhyuk's cock at the base, squeezing it to give it friction, but to deny proper pleasure.

Unconsciously, Hoseok took hold of his own dick.

It didn't escape Kihyun. He looked at Hoseok from the corner of his eye. He said nothing as his gaze glinted. All he did was cluck his tongue.

Hoseok stopped touching himself. Unsure, he planted his hands on the ground, leaning forward a little. He may have made a restless noise in his throat, which only amused both of the men.

Kihyun started jerking Minhyuk off. The motion was painfully slow even for Hoseok as he watched on.

The truth was, Hoseok was as self-indulgent as self-indulgent goes. He liked nice things. Expensive things. Expensive food. Fast food. _Material_ stuff. Sure, he worked for it. He was driven. Too driven, at times. But he rarely said no even to things he didn't need. He rarely said no to a quickie – to instant gratification. The only thing he denied his body was some rest after a packed schedule. He usually went straight to his private gym instead to bed.

So this was... this wasn't what he wanted.

He wanted to be had. Handled. Praised.

He grew even harder at being ignored.

“Faster,” mumbled Minhyuk.

“You always come the best when I go slow.”

“I don't care about best. I care about now.”

“You really have no discipline for a dom,” remarked Kihyun. He didn't pick up the pace. Quite the opposite. Little by little, he let go.

Hoseok saw black.

Were they _both_ doms?

Before he could process it, Kihyun grazed his lips with a thumb. It was so unexpected he gaped and opened his mouth. The thumb slid in.

“What are you willing to do for us?” he asked.

Anything, Hoseok thought. So he said it.

“Anything.”

It _displeased_ Kihyun.

“I need to know your limits. Speak up.”

“I – don't like to be hurt,” he said, afraid it was too vague. “And I don't like slut-calling. Sir,” he added.

“Very well. Are you okay with us taking turns?”

Oh, god. Oh, yes.

“Yes, please.”

“Are you okay if the others join us in between to please you?”

“ _Yes_.”

With gratitude that startled him, Hoseok sucked on his master's fingers.

“Good.” Kihyun sat up with his legs bent and open, the yukata lending him modesty. “I want to see you get tongue-fucked while you suck Minhyuk off.”

Hoseok moaned around his fingers.

Holy fuck. That little head stored some gorgeous ideas.

All the while, Minhyuk observed them with a smile that was too curved, too cunning. Or perhaps it just seemed so because it was the only part of his face Hoseok could see properly and he put too much meaning into it. He didn't care. He was ready to be handled.

Minhyuk moved upwards into a kneel, his groin close to Hoseok's face.

He knew what was going to happen before Kihyun even led him by the hair, as gently as he had led Minhyuk not long ago. Hoseok went on his hands and knees, the scent of Minhyuk's pre-cum already an almost palpable tang on the roof of his mouth. He licked it off the flushed tip. Fuck. It tasted as good as it smelled. He sucked the head of Minhyuk's hard-on in, the tip of his tongue teasing the slit.

He wanted Kihyun to see this. To see how good it could be with him.

Hoseok wasn't the best at deep-throating, but he had a wide mouth and a lot of love for anything big that went into it. He let his lids fall shut and took Minhyuk in up to the root.

The man, indeed, had little patience. He grabbed Hoseok's head and started fucking it. It wasn't as forceful as to gag him, but tears rose into his eyes. Hoseok breathed deeply through his nose. Shit. So much for showing Kihyun what he was capable of. He'd just become a hole.

He cracked his eyes open and darted a glance at Kihyun.

The petals embroidered on his yukata glimmered in the red light, darker than they probably were. Pale, his shoulder still peeked from under the hem of the robe, and so did both of his collarbones. He wore traditional tabi socks. His feet were so tiny Hoseok longed to kiss them all over.

Instead, he kissed Minhyuk's cock when the man's grip on him eased enough for Hoseok to take some of his control back. Minhyuk fisted his hair and thrust his hips into him, but he no longer held Hoseok's head in place. He could lick the underside of his shaft and tease the slit again, looking up every once in a while.

More often than not, he looked at Kihyun.

It both deflated and urged Hoseok on that he wasn't even touching himself.

When he dared to steal another glimpse at him, Kihyun was beckoning to someone the way he had done it to Hoseok. With a mouthful of cock and Minhyuk's surprisingly strong arms keeping him where he was, he couldn't even turn around to see who grabbed his master's attention.

And then a tongue ran over his hole and Hoseok groaned, the sound coming out _full_ , muted by Minhyuk's girth.

He did gag then. He let the now glistening cock fall out of his mouth with a wet sound and he looked over his shoulder.

All he saw at first was the face of a demon. Wooden, its features were harshly carved and twisted around an upside-down smile. The man who wore the mask dragged his tongue back up Hoseok's opening, emerging bit by bit. Dark eyes. A prominent nose. A warm tongue.

He must have been older than the other two.

But then he spoke up.

“Hyung, he's come prepared,” the demon said, his voice pressing _into_ Hoseok, boyish yet low.

“Did he?” Kihyun smiled. Hoseok could come. It was the praising smile again. Idly, Kihyun reached out to caress him. Hoseok tilted into it. “Did you finger yourself?”

“I... a little.”

“What was that?”

“I fingered myself, master.”

Kihyun raised an eyebrow.

“I guess you've found the love of your life,” Minhyuk quipped in Kihyun's direction as he shoved his dick back into Hoseok's mouth. “No one else but you is this _anal_ about preparation.”

“Don't be so rough with him,” said Kihyun, glossing over Minhyuk's ill-timed humour. “You heard his limits.”

“Sheesh. I'm holding myself back here.”

Hoseok wondered what it looked like when Minhyuk didn't hold himself back. He was already face-fucking him faster than before.

Behind him, the demon kissed his asshole as if he'd been starving for it. It was hard to keep blowing Minhyuk when all he could do was pant; and it was harder not to wank himself off under Kihyun's gaze.

Too much was happening all at once. Minhyuk grabbed him firmer, sliding in and out all the way to sometimes slap his face with the heavy tip. Relentless, the demon rimmed him, circling his hole.

And Kihyun, Kihyun watched it all.

Without hurry, he laid a delicate hand over his groin to stroke himself.

Hoseok whined. He mumbled something, a tense please, perhaps. It shook through Minhyuk, and he came down Hoseok's throat at the same time the man's monster tongue pushed in all the way.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” Hoseok coughed, a string of cum running from his mouth, his arms giving out. He went on his elbows.

The demon's tongue was huge.

Laughing, Minhyuk sat back down, still leaking. He got it all over Hoseok.

“Oh, fuck, indeed.” Languid with bliss, he leaned all the way backwards to lie down. He tilted his head to peer at Hoseok. “It's not very courteous not to swallow everything I gave you, though.”

“Well, you almost goddamn choked me,” spat Hoseok, surprising himself and Minhyuk alike.

He gasped when the demon dove back in, humming into him. He was fucking feasting on Hoseok's ass.

Kihyun wiped Hoseok's chin with his ornate sleeve.

“Language, love.” He let his fingers linger, maybe to be kissed. “You've been doing so great so far.”

“I'm sorry, sir,” he breathed out. He lapped at Kihyun's fingertips.

“Is it _sir_ again?”

“I'm sorry, master,” he said quickly, and then he groaned as both his asshole and his lips opened to let a tongue in.

Kihyun was kissing him.

Kissing him as he palmed his own cock.

Kissing him as the man behind him spat on Hoseok's hole and ate him out until he felt like his walls would never seal.

Why was it so fucking thick?

He heard the silk of their masks rustle together as Kihyun leaned into Hoseok heavier. He had to go lower, the sleeves of his yukata falling down, the front unraveling. Unthinking, Hoseok gripped Kihyun's loosely tied obi. The sash gave way.

He sensed Kihyun pull away.

“No,” he begged. He held on to him tighter, the fabric stretching taut in his fist.

“Changkyun,” said Kihyun, “he's had enough for now. He's getting greedy.”

With one last lick that drove Hoseok insane instead of sating him, Changkyun pulled back, too.

“Okay, hyung,” he singsonged. He bit at Hoseok's ass cheek, the tattooed one, before he stood up. “Do you want me to suck you off?”

“Not today.”

“He's in the mood for denial today,” supplied Minhyuk, who lazed on his back, still recovering from his orgasm. He smirked. “I've come twice already, but he hasn't even whipped his junk out yet.”

“Hyung, you know that's unhealthy,” said the demon too cheekily for it to sound like his care was sincere. “Let me do it. You know I give the best head.”

“Don't you worry. When I come, it will be good.”

On instinct, Hoseok moved towards Kihyun. He wanted to be the reason for it. Wanted Kihyun to dissipate into him.

He wanted to earn that smile. To motherfucking own it.

He wanted this man.

Inside. In any way. Even another kiss would do.

“Please,” he blabbered.

“Have you learned your lesson, love?”

“Yes. Yes, master,” he murmured, nuzzling closer. “Just – just kiss me. Please. I won't – I won't rush anymore.”

“I will,” he promised. “On your hands and knees.”

Hoseok's cock hung stiff as he obeyed. It'd grown so neglected it nearly hurt. His knees started to tingle since he'd barely changed positions for the past half an hour or so. He shifted his legs, putting them wider apart.

Kihyun's cold little palm lifted his head.

“You're made for this.”

“Thank you, master,” slipped out of his mouth as if he truly was made for this.

Stroking his cheek, Kihyun called to Minhyuk.

“Up for la petite mort number three?”

“I can't fucking believe you,” Minhyuk tried to muster his best judgemental expression, but the smirk sort of ruined it. “First of all, your French is abysmal. Second of all, yes.”

“Prep him a little more.”

“You're really feeling this voyeur vibe tonight, don't you.”

“He's only visiting here. I want to look at him as long as I can.”

Minhyuk snorted as Hoseok's world spun.

He knew he was attractive, his body maybe more so than his face. For a second there, though, he wished to give Kihyun the best view so far, the complete view, and take the mask off. He wished his name wasn't a well-known commodity, passed from one fashion company to the next. He wished he could show him. Show him how nicely it ruined him whenever Kihyun as much as grazed his skin.

Slicked with lube, Minhyuk's fingers started working him open, two at a time. He'd gone supple enough to take them like nothing. Still, they were longer than Changkyun's tongue and they curled just the way he needed, and his mouth fell agape in a soundless “Oh.”

It gratified Kihyun as if he was the one fingering him. He sat with his legs to the side, facing Hoseok from up close. He run his hand up and down Hoseok's throat, liking the thickness of it, judging from the way he tried to wrap it with his fingers but couldn't. The inquisitive hand slid lower. It went down smoothly because of Hoseok's sweat. Kihyun traced his sternum. Pushed at it.

“How many fingers do you usually take?” Kihyun asked quietly. He seemed to measure Hoseok's muscles. He outlined his pecs, brushing one nipple.

“Two,” Hoseok mumbled out. He was torn between pushing back onto Minhyuk's hand and going forward to get more caresses from Kihyun.

“Can you take three for me, love?”

“Yes,” he whispered sharply.

As soon as the _s_ sound hissed into the semi-dark, the third digit pushed inside. It still went in so well Hoseok gave a cry and arched.

“God, he's good,” said Minhyuk, taken aback.

“Of course he is.” Leaning in until they almost kissed, Kihyun murmured: “And he can be even better. He can be patient, too. Can't you?”

“I can. I will,” he blurted, staring at Kihyun's lips. Like this, from below, the man's nose looked even lovelier. “But _please_...”

“But what? Can you only be obedient under a condition?”

“No,” he whined out. But he burned. His belly grew hotter. He felt Minhyuk there. “I'll wait. I'll wait, master, I promise –”

He would ramble on, but the pledge must have been enough.

Kihyun rewarded him.

It was only a kiss.

Hoseok thrashed, groping the ground to at least grab the bottom hem of the salmon-coloured yukata that lay there rippled, swallowing shadows. He found it, and he twisted it in his palm. He breathed out into the kiss. He knew that if he pressed forward, he'd lose the fullness inside him.

He kissed back so desperately Kihyun had to hurt. Their teeth clacked.

It was different than when Kihyun and Minhyuk had done it. It made sense, though. There was no habit in it. Kihyun explored Hoseok, tasted him. They didn't click all the way like old friends would. It wasn't a comfortable kiss. Instead, it was curious. It had him grunting for more whenever Kihyun slowed down, either to teach him patience or to sink his teeth into Hoseok's bottom lip. Whenever he did that, Hoseok breathed out into him, starting at his mouth to draw him back.

He had no idea when Minhyuk pulled out to align his dick against his ass. It nudged at the rim.

“I'm going in.”

“Okay,” said Hoseok, dazed. He only cared about the man in front of him.

Minhyuk _rammed_ in.

He would have hung his head low if it wasn't for Kihyun, who held him by the nape of his neck, boring into him. The stare floored and flooded him; consumed the string of thoughts that quivered through his mind even as he finally got what he came for.

But it wasn't enough anymore. It wasn't it.

Kihyun rubbed his nipple in lazy circles. In the same unrushed manner, he craned to recapture Hoseok's lips. From this angle, the angelic gem embedded in his mask pulsed red, filled with liquid-like light.

The light.

The tune of bamboo flutes, the droning bass.

He'd forgotten all about it.

He gasped when he realized he was being fucked in front of about ten more men, who were either looking or allowed to look. Tongue-fucked. Finger-fucked. Taken from behind as he moaned at _making out_ with this man, this petite master who was too into edging for Hoseok's liking and who had control over each and every breath Hoseok took because he let it happen. He let Kihyun control him and he craved another order, another reward. It was sweeter to earn it when it didn't come as freely as it usually did.

He was a man of instant gratifications, after all.

And he'd been aching to release all the tension for what seemed to him ages.

Other doms would just wait for him to beg. Kihyun didn't like his begging.

He stirred at self-restraint.

Light-headed, Hoseok sank his balled fists deeper into the tatami mat. His body shook with Minhyuk's thrusts, his flesh on fire with this new weight, this new force. It set his muscles moving. It was already better than anything he'd had before, and he was nearing the release he so sought after, but at this moment he'd rather be praised than pleased.

What the fuck.

“I'm close,” he told his master, tugging at his robe without realizing it. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, master.”

“Don't be sorry. You did well to tell me,” said Kihyun and for a second, Hoseok thought he'd be permitted to let it all out for that display of repentance. His master reached under him, his hand hovering within grasp of Hoseok's cock. It teased his navel instead. “Do you want to please me a little more?”

His skin, his tongue, it all went balmy at the question. He could wear his rapture like a layer of clothing, it was so palpable. It enveloped him.

“Yes – yes. Let me. Let me make you feel good,” he rasped.

Smiling, but not a soft smile this time, Kihyun undid his sash.

Oh, god. He'd be finally able to suck him off.

Instead of opening his yukata, Kihyun took the intricately embroidered obi and smoothed it down. He grabbed it in the middle, leaving a taut stretch of fabric tighten in between his hands as if he was holding a blindfold.

Except he didn't tie the thing around his eyes. He tied it around the base of Hoseok's cock.

He silently wailed when it dawned on him he wasn't allowed to come just yet. Minhyuk ground into him more erratically now, aroused by Kihyun's little mind games. He gave light laughs every now and then. Rapidly, but not enough to harm, he tugged at Hoseok's hair and pulled him up.

Hoseok spasmed. Both of the men took him by the shoulders and forced him up as if they gave each other a silent signal. He ended up kneeling, his blushing cock bobbing between his and Kihyun's body with every snap of Minhyuk's hips. It looked helpless with the same-coloured sash tightened around it. Swollen. Numbed down.

He had no energy to cry out when Kihyun bent down to deep-throat him. His master hollowed his cheeks, taking Hoseok's length like a prize he'd been working towards the whole night. The tiny tongue flickered over Hoseok's slit. It pushed _in_.

Hoseok threw his head back. His palms scorched as he poured all his willpower into not touching his master until asked to.

“No...” he managed.

Kihyun stopped.

“Are you in pain?”

“No – no –”

“What is it, love?”

He didn't know.

But then he did.

“I don't deserve this,” his whispered brokenly.

In the crevices of the mask, Kihyun's eyes resembled two shimmery crescents.

“You've been obedient. You deserve everything you ask me for.” Gracefully, he straightened up. One of his narrow shoulders edged up higher than the other, and Kihyun laid his chin on top of it. “Do you want my mouth or my hand?” he offered, petting Hoseok's ear.

It was too much.

“I want you inside,” he rasped.

“That wasn't an option.”

“But you said I deserve everything I ask for,” Hoseok moaned. He lay into Minhyuk's chest heavier, not minding whether it was strenuous for the skinnier man to uphold him. “You said so,” he almost accused.

“Needy,” intoned Minhyuk. He clutched Hoseok's hips to drive into him quicker.

“You _said_ so,” repeated Hoseok as he tried to outstare his master. His breath hitched. “You said I could please you.”

Kihyun didn't speak or move.

He watched Hoseok getting fucked by another man, writhing.

Leisurely, as if still thinking, he skimmed the strip of silk tied around Hoseok's root, and then the mole by his belly button.

“You will have to wait for my turn,” he said at last and Hoseok's heart dropped, “or you can have us both.”

His features contorting, he buried his face in the crook of Minhyuk's neck.

“Both?” he echoed, his mind empty.

He got no answer.

The finger that pressed at his asshole was answer enough.

Oh, god. They were going to share him.

Fear overwhelmed him. It strangled him as firmly as the obi did.

And yet.

“Yes,” he let out hotly. “I want to. I want you.”

“Ask for it properly.”

“I want you to fuck me at the same time, master,” he said raggedly.

He could swear Kihyun slinked closer at that, drinking Hoseok's plea in.

“I'll have to finger you first,” he whispered. It was so protective that Hoseok dove forward and draped one arm around his master's shoulders.

He felt even frailer than he looked.

“Okay,” Hoseok murmured. “Okay. I can take it.”

“I'll go slow,” Kihyun assured him. He brushed his lips against Hoseok's without kissing him. He stayed like that as he groped for lube. “Tell me your safeword.”

He didn't have any. He didn't want slow. His eyes unfocused, he looked around for something, anything to ground him, to give him strength to bear this. He took in the couples and groups tangled together, slick and wet sounds filling the place as they fucked. He took in the silhouette of a man who now hung from the ceiling belly-down, pounded into from both sides. In a blur, he took in the paintings of dragons and branches, the wooden carvings on the walls that resembled erotic shunga art.

Heavily, his eyes landed on Kihyun. Dressed in whites and corals, he appeared to him even more pure in contrast to everyone else. The birds sewn into his yukata seemed to soar whenever he moved.

“Hummingbird,” Hoseok muttered.

Curving one corner of his mouth upwards, Kihyun pecked him like a boyfriend would. Like an owner would.

“And your name?”

Hoseok froze. He shook his head once.

Kihyun understood.

“Okay, love.”

Hoseok wanted to thank him – but the finger that probed at him silenced him. He'd taken three before. He was loose enough. Snug, but yielding. A little tight, though he parted at the intrusion. Kihyun worked his way up Hoseok's hole with his forefinger, moving in sync with Minhyuk.

It forced out the highest moan out of Hoseok so far.

Kihyun gasped a little. It turned into a chuckle.

“Good, baby. Good.”

“Don't call me that,” Hoseok groaned. “I'm no baby.”

“As you wish, beloved.”

It would sound old-fashioned from anyone but Kihyun. From him, it turned Hoseok's flesh to ice and to summer fires all at once.

It was as if he meant it.

Something too similar to a “yes” slithered up Hoseok's throat.

“Thank you, master,” he said.

He thanked him again after Kihyun pushed two fingers into him. His rim was so taut he trembled. It still felt good – full – but it was nearing something scary. He nearly begged for it to stop when Minhyuk turned harsher, his too-satisfied body finally drowning in a new wave of pleasure. The push and rub inside Hoseok's walls intensified.

“Put it in if you want to share him,” Minhyuk growled. “I won't last for much longer.”

“You've both done beautifully,” said Kihyun, hushed, and took his fingers out with a squelch that shamed Hoseok to the core.

He didn't have time to be embarrassed or to hide any more than his mask already hid him, though.

Kihyun parted his yukata.

God. The thing was _girthy_. On that dainty body, it looked outright big. And yet it was smaller than Hoseok's when their cocks brushed. Kihyun locked their hips together to test Minhyuk's rhythm before he was ready to ride it. He reached down to position himself against Hoseok's asshole. Already stretched and abused, it gave way at the slightest press.

It let the whole head in.

Hoseok whimpered. He gripped at Kihyun. The need to steady himself and to be reassured rang stronger within him than the worry he might leave marks all over his master. At least for a while, he couldn't care less. He was gouged with two cocks and dripping lube, his throbbing body overlooked except for his asshole.

And neck. He panted at the contact. Kihyun sucked on it so nice and possessive that Hoseok would let him invite a third man in just to make this last.

But two men were already too much. Already too – too – they spread him to the point of breaking, but he took it, and he reveled in the coiling sensation that crept up his belly, and he thanked Kihyun for each thrust and each praise he muttered.

Minhyuk came for the third time and ground into Hoseok so bad that he clung to Kihyun, whining. The tightness was gone and so was Minhyuk. Hoseok set his teeth to stop himself from making more noises and he clenched around Kihyun, craving the half-pain again until his master spoke up.

“I'll lie you down now, okay?” he murmured into Hoseok's mouth.

He nodded. He had no will to speak.

Gently, Kihyun pushed him down, draping Hoseok's thighs around his waist. He was afraid he'd be empty at the loss, too loose for Kihyun to even like it, but he wasn't. He sucked Kihyun right in and the man moaned as he palmed Hoseok's pecs.

“You're so warm,” Kihyun uttered.

“You're so fucking fat,” blurted Hoseok without thinking.

Kihyun's laughter feathered his skin as he rubbed his head against Hoseok's chest. The Venetian mask scratched him, marring the pale expanse of his muscles. He barely noticed it. Kihyun, though, made a displeased sound. To Hoseok's astonishment, he took the thing off.

He had curtly carved features, sterner than he'd ever imagine. But _pretty_. Dewy with sweat, his face glistened.

He kissed the dent between Hoseok's collarbones, mapping a path up the veins that stood out in his throat from the strain. It was tormenting him. His neglected erection burned between their stomachs.

“Kiss me,” he pleaded. “Touch me. I'll do anything, master.”

“Anything?”

“ _Yes_.”

Hoisting Hoseok's thighs higher up, Kihyun made him wrap them around his back firmer. He put one hand between them and unwrapped Hoseok in one fluid motion. The sash fell on the floor.

“Then come for me.”

Choking, Hoseok crushed his master with all his might, embracing him with his arms and legs.

It took one more sharp thrust and one brush of Kihyun's skin over his cock for Hoseok to come undone. His whimper turned into a roar and back to a whimper again, so broken and tense towards the end that Kihyun cradled his head.

The sounds coming out of his asshole as Kihyun leaked into him almost made him pass out.

The lithe body on top of his stilled. Even now, though, it _denied_ him something. It denied him rest. Kihyun buried back into him in a dragged out motion, and out, and in. They were like a boat on waves. Hoseok's thighs started to shake.

“You're alright,” Kihyun whispered. “Just hold on to me.”

Hoseok did. He all but minced the man in his meaty arms.

It didn't faze Kihyun at all, as instead he leaned into the touch. He didn't glide out until he'd gone completely soft, and by that time, Hoseok was a mess.

“Don't let go of me,” he said quietly, his eyes closed.

“I won't. I've got you.”

Gravity lost its pull at him. So he was handled in the end. Held.

Disciplined.

When he came to it, he saw that Minhyuk was resting a little away to his left. His tall boyfriend lay curled up on his chest, watching Hoseok tiredly. It was so territorial that Hoseok observed them with a shy sort of fondness.

He turned back to Kihyun, who was spent above him, his nostrils flaring. Despite the languor in his limbs, he gathered the sleeve of his yukata and wiped Hoseok's belly. He worked his way up to soak up all the sweat that had gathered in between his pecs.

“Did I do well?” Hoseok breathed out. “Was it – was it worth the wait?”

“You tell me.”

All Hoseok managed was a grin.

The man mirrored it. As he carried on with the aftercare, he dragged himself upwards. He stroked Hoseok's hair.

“Find me if you ever feel like getting that head, beloved.”

Oh, fuck.

Hoseok was _so_ going to pay his way back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is to celebrate and promote tolerance in the kiho fandom.


End file.
